Forgive Me Father, For I Have Killed
by AmazingLadar
Summary: Father Peter Westley get's a confession. Someone intends to murder, but will he go against his morals and strict rules to tell the police and potentially save a life? My attempt at no Shawn Whump. Still Shules. Not set in any specific season therefore no spoilers. (T for language here and there. and because I'm paranoid)
1. Every Year

**Hello lovelys! Maybe you just finished reading my other FanFics, maybe you're completely new and reading this, maybe not. Don't really mind, just hope you enjoy it.**

**By the way, I'm starting this thing on my PsychFics. Instead of finding a pineapples like you do in the show, find the Shakespeare Reference! (Because I'm just weird like that). Find the reference and you get a virtual fist bump, virtual cookie, virtual hug and maybe even a shout out. Whaaaat?**

**I can't see this being too long. We're looking at around 5 chapters. So hopefully I'll be done by the end of April. And then I'll be taking a break until May 18****th**** (exams).**

**So, from now until May 18****th****, if you could do me the awesome favour of going through my profile, seeing the planned FanFics and just PMing or reviewing which one you'd like me to do next.**

**That is all I have to say, my lovelys. Please review! You know you want to.**

* * *

April 8th, 1994, Cliff Drive

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Ambulance! I need an ambulance!"

"Hold for a second while I connect you…" just over a second went by before the phone was connected, and the same question came up. "What's your emergency?"

"There's a woman! She's in the middle of the road… I… I think it was a hit and run. She doesn't look like she's breathing."

"Can you tell me where you are?"

"Um… Cliff Drive! We're on Cliff Drive."

"An ambulance has just been dispatched, it should be there in a couple minutes. Sir, can you tell me your name?"

"Shawn. Shawn Spencer."

"Okay, Shawn, are you alone? Is there anyone else around who could help?"

"No. I'm alone. Just us two."

"Do you know any first aid?"

"Um… yeah. CPR… taught at school…"

"Okay, Shawn, I want you to start doing chest compressions on her until the ambulance gets there, keep the phone line on, okay?"

"Okay…"

…

…

April 9th, 1994, Cliff Drive

...

...

Viola Cesario, Pronounced dead at 0:37, 9th April, 1994

…

…

17 year old Shawn Spencer stared at the dead woman before him. she was being zipped up into a body bag. He couldn't stand the sight of her sister and father crying over her. Viola couldn't have been older than 15. Her sister – who Shawn now knew as Olivia – was the younger sibling. She was nine years old and could only just understand the concept of losing a sister. Watching the father grieve was by far the hardest thing Shawn had ever had to watch. The way he sobbed and didn't even care if he woke up the whole state. All he could focus on was the body bag, his first born child inside, never to see the light of day again.

Just watching the father made Shawn want to start sobbing as well. He wish he could have done more, but according to the paramedics, there was a chance that she was dead upon impact. There was nothing Shawn _could_ have done.

Police were surrounding the area. It was a crime scene now. A potential hit and run… they needed to find the bastard that did this.

"Shawn" a voice said. The young Shawn Spencer looked up to see his father staring at him. it only took one look at his father for the barriers that Shawn was holding to break down. He allowed the shock from watching someone die take over him as he started to sob. Despite the relationship that had formed between the father and son since the divorce, Henry saw it as his duty to protect and comfort Shawn. So he pulled him in for a hug and held him tight. Shawn, despite how much he swore he hated his father, allowed himself to be pulled in and even returned the hug, desperate for any type of comfort.

"Shawn, listen to me, I know this is a very shocking experience and you may not feel quite ready to talk about it, but we need to find the person that did this to Viola. Can you tell me what happened? As much as you know." Shawn slowly nodded. That's how it was with Henry. He was a cop first. But he was used to it.

"I was driving… heading home… and I-I saw her body… just on the ground…"

"Okay, do you remember seeing anything suspicious? Seeing anything suspicious? Was there a car nearby when you found Viola?" Shawn was shaking his head before his father even finished asking the question.

"No… no it was an empty road."

"Do you remember seeing anyone walking away from her?" again Shawn shook his head.

"It was dark… but I don't… I don't think there was anyone else."

"He probably didn't even stop once he hit her…" Henry muttered. He looked at his son again and he left the cop persona behind and adapted his father character again. "come on, Shawn. Let's get you home. You need a good night rest, okay?"

Shawn nodded along with his father, simply desperate to get the image of Viola's body out of his head. To get the image of her grieving father out. To get the image of her confused sister out.

But that was the problem with Shawn's eidetic memory. He could never forget. He could never get those images out.

* * *

April 8th, 2013. Tom Blaire's Pub

Shawn sat at the bar, staring down at his cup. He wasn't one to heavily drink , especially not on a Monday. But today was a… special day. It marked the 19th anniversary of Viola Cesario's death.

While Shawn did not know her personally, he had felt guilty about the death ever since he saw it happen. Ever since he saw her body on the road. On the first anniversary, Shawn went to the Cesario household to express his condolences. Mr. Cesario awkwardly muttered a thanks. Then, as he watched Shawn leave, he yelled after him trying to assure him not to feel guilty. Mr. Cesario often expressed to Shawn that he didn't blame him. In fact, he was grateful that Shawn was there. At least Viola didn't die alone. At least someone tried to save her.

Now, every year on April 8th, Shawn drank himself stupid. He would hand his keys over to the bartender as soon as he arrived, knowing very well that he was going to be wasted by the time people started wondering where he was. It was generally Gus that came to find him and drove him back home. And by home, Gus obviously meant his own. There was no way he would leave Shawn alone. But, when morning came, Shawn was already gone. He'd go back to the pub, get his keys and his bike, and go to the Psych office and acted like the night before never happened. Gus never questioned it.

It was a difficult situation when it had been Henry who had found Shawn at the pub. In 2009, the 15th anniversary, Henry happened to find himself at the pub the same time Shawn had reached his tipping point. To say that Henry was shocked was an understatement. He simply couldn't believe he was seeing his son this way. Henry brought him home and Shawn passed out on his couch. The next morning, Shawn was gone. He had taken his keys from the pub and went to the Psych office, determined to act like nothing had happened. Henry had found him, of course, and questioned him. Shawn tried deflecting, but it didn't even kind of work.

It didn't make things easier when he questioned Shawn at the station, in front of everyone. Shawn looked at his father with a seriousness that no one was used to seeing. He then muttered "I remember every detail" before walking away from the station. Those four words made everything click according to Henry and Gus, while everyone else was still in the dark. Henry and Gus followed after him and tried to assure him a hundred times over that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have done anything that would have prevented her death. Shawn said he felt better, and Gus believed him. Until the call came on April 8th 2010 (technically April 9th by that time) from the pub, asking Gus to pick up his friend. Gus went to be with his friend, no questions asked.

Juliet was still entirely in the dark. She had questioned Shawn multiple times where he always ran off to on April 8th. Even Lassiter was slightly worried. Yes, they noticed Shawn's disappearances. Every. Year. They weren't detectives for nothing. Shawn played it off as if it were some annual pineapple event at the pub. They had bought that lie quite easily. At least they did, until Henry questioned Shawn at the station. Those four words made no sense to them, but it seemed to make sense to the other two. So they let it go. At least they did, until they realised that the pattern never stopped. He still disappeared every April 8th. And they still questioned him every April 9th. And they have yet to receive a straight answer from the psychic.

This year was no different. At exactly 37 minutes past midnight, Gus received a call from the all too familiar pub to pick up his drunken friend. It was the same every year. Same exact time, same exact day, same exact place, same damn pattern. Gus groaned as he pulled himself out of bed and grabbed his keys. He walked past the living room, the couch already set up for someone to sleep on.

It was the same every year.


	2. An Intervention and a Confession

**Hello lovelys! I wasn't originally going to update today. Maybe not for a while. But then I watched the new Psych episode and well… I need a distraction. No spoilers, I just need to distract myself. I can't wait a whole week! It's madness!**

**Anyways, yes. On with the show.**

**Please review! I love reviews, all types! Reviews make my day and for the rest of the week, they will distract me, so PLEASE review. Something to keep me busy until next week! **

* * *

April 9th, 2013, Gus' Apartment

Shawn woke up at exactly seven o'clock. The first thing he knew he had to do was get up and get the hell out of there. He couldn't have Gus start to ask questions. He liked their relationship. Shawn asked for help, Gus would complain and argue but would help none the less. Then, Shawn would disappear, Gus would let him, and they'd never speak of it again until next year. It was a good system. It was the only system Shawn would work with.

So he stood up off the couch and immediately fell back down. He groaned in pain and clutched his head. He had never had a hangover this bad before. And he didn't really expect any less. Yesterday was the worst night he had ever had. It was the anniversary, yes. Shawn felt guilty and traumatised, yes. And the fact that Olivia Cesario happened to show up at the Tom Blaire's Pub certainly hadn't made his night any easier. In fact, it made it worst.

Olivia was depressed. She too was drowning her sorrows away. She was so young when it happened and Shawn had hoped that she would have forgotten. But, sadly, nineteen years without a sister only made things harder. Olivia didn't say a word and only glared at the psychic. Which meant she remembered. Which meant she blamed him.

So Shawn drank himself to a point he had never reached before, trying to fight off that voice in the back of his head screaming at him, '_your fault, __**your**__ fault, YOUR FAULT!'_ So Shawn drank, and drank, and drank, until he couldn't hear the voice anymore. Until he couldn't remember his name, much less the 'incident'.

And so now it was finally biting him in the ass.

The hangover was death to Shawn. He felt like crap, smelled like alcohol and wished he could drown out the pain in his head with more booze. But then, of course, he realised how counterproductive that would be. So he settled for rummaging through Gus' medicine cabinet and finding a box of aspirin. He quickly took two and sat back down on the couch.

He fell asleep almost immediately after that.

* * *

Gus walked into the living room at a quarter to eight. He knew what to expect. Shawn would be gone, the bed sheets folded up and any trace of Shawn spending the night would be long gone. So he'd make himself some coffee and head over to the Psych office, stopping for smoothies on the way.

And imagine the surprise when Gus saw that Shawn was still on his couch. Imagine the surprise to see his friend had stayed longer than usual. Imagine the hope Gus felt, maybe he'd get answers. Imagine the happiness Gus felt that Shawn might be opening up. And then… imagine the horror when Gus noticed a bottle of pills still in Shawn's hands.

"Shawn!" Gus screamed and ran towards his friend. He put the pills to the side and quickly checked for a pulse. Relief overtook him as he found one, strong as ever. He looked back to the bottle of pills and noticed that it was still almost completely full. Meaning Shawn could have only taken a couple.

Gus managed a chuckle at his paranoia and made his way to the kitchen. He never thought about it until that very moment but… what if the guilt did finally get to Shawn? What if one day getting drunk wasn't enough for his best friend? What if he were to walk in to find Shawn still on his couch, like he was today, only this time with an _empty_ bottle of pills? He wouldn't be able to deal with that. He couldn't.

Perhaps… it's time for an intervention…

* * *

Shawn woke up again at half past one. Shocked and embarrassed, he pulled himself out of bed. Bed? Huh… that was odd. Didn't he normally sleep on the couch? Shawn quickly looked around and found that, oddly enough, he was in a room. An actual room, not just Gus' living room. He wasn't wearing a shirt or pants, just his boxers. He looked around and was only even more confused when he found his clothes sitting on a wardrobe nearby. So he started putting his clothes back on, desperate to make a quick getaway.

It dawned on him just a bit later what it all meant. Gus couldn't have carried him alone to the bed. At least, not without hurting himself, or Shawn, or waking Shawn up. and Gus definitely wouldn't take his clothes off for him. Which meant that Gus wasn't alone. He had someone there with him. Shawn cursed softly, noting that the time in which he could use Gus to his advantage had finally run out. He had used up his last overnight stay with no questions asked. Now he would have to face people.

Slowly, Shawn poked his head out of the room. The coast was clear, so he started to tiptoe towards the front door. The door knob was just within reach when he was caught.

"Don't even think about it, Shawn" Henry Spencer warned. Shawn slowly turned to see his friends there. Gus, Henry, Juliet… hell, even _Lassiter_… they were all in Gus' living room, staring at him. Shawn put on a big smile and walked towards them. Might as well get it all over with.

"Hey! How are all of you?" Shawn asked happily. They all just stared him down.

"Sit" Henry commanded.

"What is this, an intervention?" no one would look at him in the eye. He looked over at his best friend. "Gus?" no eye contact. Guilt. So it _was_ Gus. He called them all here. And it _was_ an intervention. Just great. "Seriously, guys? An intervention?"

"Well, what did you expect, a parade?" Lassiter yelled, surprising, well, everyone. Shawn didn't even complain about his headache. He was simply in shock by his outburst.

"Shawn, I just can't take this anymore" Gus said quietly. "I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. Everything's under control-"

"Yeah right" Henry muttered.

"Shawn, I'm completely in the dark about all this" Juliet admitted. "Please tell me what's going on. Where do you always disappear to? Every year?" Shawn hesitated before answering.

"A bar."

"Where he proceeds to get completely and utterly drunk" Henry offered.

"And then, I get a call at midnight, and I'm suddenly a hotel open for business" Gus finished. Shawn groaned, realising this wouldn't be over any time soon. He flopped down on the couch, finally taking his dad on his orders from earlier.

"Look, I don't see the problem here" Shawn said, only to be met with incredulous eyes. "Everyone has that one day a year that's rough for them. For Lassie, it's the divorce week. For Jules, it's Frank leaving. For Dad, it's mom leaving. And for Gus, it's your dog dying. We all have our weak days of the year. This is mine. I cope with it differently than you guys. And there's no problem with that."

"Shawn-"

"No, I help you guys through your days. Why can't you just let me deal with mine alone?"

"Shawn!" Gus yelled. Everyone stared slightly shocked. They argued, sure, but Gus wasn't one to yell.

"Dude, indoor voice, please" Shawn said, massaging his temples. "Killer headache over here."

"Yeah, you deserve that, kid" Henry said. Gus ignored both of them and continued.

"I don't have a problem with you being more sensitive during these couple days or even just being a little depressed. It's the _way_ you're coping with it that's worrying us. Drinking yourself numb isn't the way to deal with it. You said it yourself, you help us through our moments. Let us help you through yours."

"I don't _need_ any-"

"Shawn, this morning I found you with a bottle of pills-"

"You what?!" Henry yelled. Shawn grabbed his head in pain. Lassiter and Juliet stared at Shawn, wide eyed, jaws on the floor.

"Nono! He only took a few" Gus said quickly, saving Shawn's ass. "I'm guessing for the headache. But that's when I realised… it could happen easily. And I want to stop it before it gets to that point." Shawn rolled his eyes at that, but everyone around seemed to nod in agreement with Gus. Shawn simply couldn't believe it.

"This is ridiculous" Shawn stood up, having had enough with the intervention. "I have never _once_ thought about going down that road. I have one day a year where I lose myself, and _that's. It. _None of you would have even known about it, but apparently, I'm trusting the wrong people" Shawn glared at Gus. No eye contact. Guilt.

"Shawn, don't blame Gus" Juliet said calmly. "He's just worried. We all are."

"Well, don't be" Shawn insisted. With one last look at his friends, he stormed out the door, being very sure to slam the door on his way out (only to regret it when the loud noise bounced around in his head, making the world spin). Inside, everyone stared where Shawn once sat. oh, they were worried. They never really stopped being worried.

"Shouldn't we go after him?" Lassiter asked.

"I don't think that'd make things better" Henry said.

"So what do we do now?" Gus asked, still worried.

"I guess we just look over him for the next couple days" Juliet said with a shrug. "He doesn't seem so keen on us getting too close to this."

"I've been best friends with Shawn since I can remember" Gus said suddenly. He looked at them with a sadness in his eyes that none of them were comfortable seeing. "In all that time, I've never seen Shawn this secretive about something. He likes attention, he wouldn't normally hid this type of stuff." Now it seemed Gus was more rambling to himself than he was to them. "And Shawn isn't even a heavy drinker. And yet, every year he crashes on my couch. And seeing him this morning… I actually thought he was dead. And reality set in. The likeliness of that situation becoming a reality if he doesn't get help now is… worrying."

Silence. They all knew it was weird, odd… maybe bad. But they didn't know it was _this_ bad. That things were really falling apart, getting worst and worst every year. They thought he was getting better. They were all deep in thought and the silence was deafening. Finally, Lassiter spoke up.

"What does someone like Spencer have to feel _this _guilty about?"

* * *

April 9th, 2013, Christ Church

Olivia Cesario made her way through the church. It was empty. Well, it was also seven o'clock in the morning on a Tuesday. Not many people would go to church at a time like this. But Olivia felt she had to. She was going through a horrible time in her life and she needed guidance to get through it. And the church had always been there for her before, so maybe this time they would be there for her again. Even if the circumstances were slightly… different.

Nineteen years ago, her sister died. She was young, she hardly remembered it. But she had to grow up without a sister. She had to grow up with a grieving father. She had to grow up knowing her sister died and the person who killed her didn't even have the decency to come forward and confess, to say 'I did it, and I'm sorry'. No, he hid away like the coward he was. And that made Olivia furious.

Olivia's mother died giving birth to her. Father never quite looked at her the same way. Viola, however, was the golden child. When she died, her father was distraught. The dinners were silent, the car rides were awkward and the phone calls were scarce. During this difficult time, both of them had turned to religion. Both found comfort and security within the church, and they wouldn't give it up for anything.

One day, only two years ago, Sebastian Cesario decided to talk to his daughter. He explained to her how he decided he had forgiven everyone. He explained how forgiveness was the most important thing in the world. He forgave the doctors for the mistakes they made that lead to her mother's death. He forgave the hit and run driver that killed Viola. He didn't know who he was or why he didn't stop to get help. all he knew was that he forgave him.

That was the exact moment Olivia had snapped.

How could he forgive so easily? How could he look into the eyes of someone who had done so much wrong and say with such sincerity 'I forgive you'? It simply didn't make sense to Olivia. It never did make sense to her and it never would. Those people didn't deserve forgiveness, they deserved a life sentence. And she knew exactly who deserved the punishment when it came to her sister's death.

When she was young, she saw the crime scene. She knew something wasn't quite right with the tire tracks on the floor, but she was too young to understand. It was only after her father's speech on forgiveness that Olivia decided to dig into her sister's case. And she found exactly what she was looking for. She found exactly who was to blame for the accident.

And he was walking around like a free man. The bastard.

Three weeks ago, horrible, horrible thoughts crept into her head. The thoughts of taking a knife and driving it straight into his heart. Thoughts of watching the light go out of his eyes. The thought of watching the person responsible for her sister's death die a horrible, painful death. Those thoughts became her lullaby at night. She thought of it before she went to bed and she thought about them when she first woke up.

Then, two days ago, she bought the exact knife she had always pictured in her head. It was more of an impulse buy rather than anything else. She saw the knife in a store and realised why it looked so familiar. So she bought it. Then, yesterday, she found herself in a pub, only a couple seats away from her intended target. And she found she couldn't do it.

She figured she needed to talk it through with someone, but who could she trust with something like this? Not her father, he would lecture her on forgiveness. He would try to make her forget. That wasn't happening. She couldn't talk to the police because they simply wouldn't believe her. So, Olivia went to the one place she knew she could always turn to, the one place where she wouldn't ever be judged.

She went to confession.

She climbed into the booth and sat, waiting patiently. Finally, she decided to speak. She needed to get it off her chest. She needed to confess, to tell someone about it _before_ she actually did it.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned" Olivia started. "It's been about three weeks since my last confession.

"Since then… I've been having some… inappropriate thoughts of a certain man…"

"What type of thoughts?" the priest asked.

"Indecent…" Olivia answered. The priest was happy to leave it at that, but Olivia continued. "I've known this man for almost twenty years now. My father likes him. I hate him." slightly confused, the priest decided to clarify.

"What indecent thoughts are you having?"

"I think of… a horrible sin, Father. I think of… getting a knife and stabbing in the heart, slitting his throat, stabbing him in the gut so many times he coughs up his own blood and stumbles to the ground!" Olivia was out of breath and was shocked at herself. Had she really just confessed all of that to a priest? Said priest was slightly scared on his side of the booth, unsure of how to approach this situation.

"These are simply thoughts, yes?" the priest clarified.

"Yes…"

"There is no harm in thoughts for now. It's when we start act-"

"But see, that's the thing, Father. A couple days ago I found myself buying a knife. Just yesterday I found myself following this man around, debating when the perfect time to strike would be. They're only thoughts for now. They're turning into actions. I don't want to be a sinner."

"What is the name of this man?" Olivia hesitated. She didn't want to reveal this information, and she knew she had the right not to answer these questions. But, she also knew that this was all confidential. She needed the forgiveness and she needed to be clean. So she took a deep breath for courage and finally admitted.

"Shawn Spencer."

* * *

Father Peter Westley made his way to Church in the early morning. He was the priest in charge of confessions for the day. And so, he walked into the booth and waited patiently for the first person to come in. He, of course, felt everyone should be forgiven. That was why he was in the booth, to listen to other people confessions and absolve them of their sins.

He was not expecting this, though. A young woman entered the booth and started to confess. It seemed like the normal confession for a woman of her age. It hadn't been that long since her last confession and he could see that this woman was good.

And then she confessed to wanting to murder someone. Not just wanting to… actually _starting_ to go through with her desires, her need to kill the man. And then, imagine his terror when he heard the name. A name he was very familiar with. He knew Shawn when he was a little boy. Shawn helped clear his name, and in turn, Father Westley had saved Shawn from a burning building.

Now, he had a chance to save his life again. He had a chance to prevent this kill from ever happening. Right now, no one suspected a thing. And he could stop all of it from ever happening. From ever even _beginning_ to happen. He had the power in his hands at this very moment to put the woman behind bars and save an innocent life. He had this power.

But he couldn't use it.

It was times like these that Father Westley truly wished he wasn't bound by confidentiality.

Now, he had a serious decision to make.


	3. How Thoughtful

**Hello lovelys! I realise it's been more almost 2 weeks since I've updated. I honestly have no excuse. I had the time. A lot of time, really. No writers block either. I knew exactly what this chapter would be about and I know exactly what the next three will be about. I was just lazy and for that I apologise. It's here now though.**

**Two things. (1) I have an epilogue planned, but it'll be short. (looking ahead here). Would you like to have the epilogue or would you rather just deal with what I give you later on? (2) please look at my profile and suggest which FanFic to do after I finish this. It will be started in June.**

**Please review! I love reviews so, so much. They brighten my day and bring a smile to my face. Even if it's corrections, because honestly, it's past 1am here. I'll have spelling and grammar mistakes and I'm sorry about that. So please review. You know you want to.**

* * *

April 10th, 2013, Psych Office

Shawn strolled into the office as if nothing was wrong. As if he hadn't just returned from a full day of driving around with his phone turned off and any way of reaching him switched off. He got more than just a couple worried text messages and voice mails by the time he had returned home, but he didn't care. After the little intervention his friends tried to pull the night before, Shawn had just wanted to be on his own. He didn't care about his family and friends, he didn't care about any cases that may show up and he didn't care about what sort of trouble he'd get into when he got back. He just wanted to be alone.

Of course, even though everyone knew that Shawn was probably just working off some steam and frustration, they were all worried for him. For the whole night, Juliet and Gus had called Shawn, only to be directed immediately to voice mail. Lassiter and Henry attempted several times, but not quite to the extent as the others. They were just worried for him, really. They knew he wouldn't do anything stupid.

So when Shawn strolled into the office as if nothing had happened, Gus and Juliet weren't sure whether to feel relieved or furious with the fake psychic. Because he was safe and now they knew that for sure. But then again, the little idiot had run off in the middle of the day without a trace and turned off all means of communication. They were bound to be more than a bit upset with him.

"Oh… hey Gus, Jules. Didn't think I'd find you here" Shawn said honestly as he made his way to his desk. Juliet stared at her boyfriend in slight shock. How could he be acting so calmly? That settled it. She was pissed.

"Shawn, you left without telling us anything" Juliet said. "You should tell us where you run off to! At the very least you should have your phone on! What if something happened to you?"

"Sorry, Shawn, but I'm with Juliet on this" Gus said. Shawn seemed unfazed by the ambush that was waiting for him. He just shrugged his shoulders and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" Shawn insisted. Juliet and Gus exchanged an odd look.

"Shawn, don't you dare act like yesterday didn't happen" Juliet said.

"Why not, Jules?"

"Because it did happen. And it's going to keep happening until we can sort it all out."

Look, this is how I've lived the past nineteen years of my life and so far I haven't come across any problems. Why create some now?"

"I hope you realise how sad that sounds."

"I don't care. It's easier like this" and with that, Shawn grabbed his helmet once again and headed for the door. He wasn't going to leave for the whole day again, but he definitely wasn't going to hang around the Psych office while he was interrogated by his friends. He knew it would just take time before they let it go. Just a little time.

"You can't keep running from this forever, Shawn" Gus warned his best friend.

"I can certainly try" Shawn called out. Okay, maybe it would need a little more time than he thought.

* * *

April 10th 2013, Santa Barbara Police Station

Carlton Lassiter was working hard at his desk. It had been more than twenty four hours since he had heard from Shawn, and quite frankly, he was starting to get annoyed with the constant silence. Don't get him wrong, many times a day he wished he could just smack the idiot, but something about being charged with assault was getting in his way. However, on this particular occasion, after seeing Shawn in the wreck he was the previous night, Lassiter was worried and he missed the annoying antics of the 'psychic'.

It wasn't until Lassiter was starting to pack up his desk did he notice a familiar face walk into the station. It was none other than Father Peter Westley. Lassiter knew the priest from the two cases he had gotten involved in, but other than that, he was just a priest in the detective's eyes. Confused as to what business a priest would have in a police station, Lassiter walked towards him.

"Father Westley" Lassiter greeted, holding out his hand. The priest smiled and shook his hand.

"Detective" he greeted him.

"I believe Guster is down at his office" Lassiter said, trying to go through reasons the priest would show up at the station. "As for Spencer, well I really haven't got a clue."

"Oh no, I'm not here to visit them" Father Westley said. Lassiter nodded his head, but wasn't quite catching on.

"Okay. Well… if that's all…" Lassiter turned and started making his way towards his car.

"I actually wanted to check in with you, Detective." This caught Lassiter off guard. He froze where he stood and turned around slowly.

"Me?"

"Just wanted to see how things were going."

"They're fine. Did O'Hara put you up to this?"

"What? Oh, no."

"Do you mind telling me what this is about?"

"Just giving you a heads up. Keep an eye out for crime…"

"Keep an eye out for crime? You honestly told a detective to keep an eye out for crime? That's kind of in the job description, Father."

"I know…"

"Is there a crime you want to report?"

"No." it took a while for things to register with the detective. When they finally did, he mentally kicked himself for not seeing the signs sooner.

"Did someone say something to you in a confession?"

"I never said that." Lassiter took that as a confirmation.

"Right. Was it a robbery? Murder? Scam?" no response from the priest. "Okay, who will this effect? O'Hara? Guster? The chief? Friendly neighbourhood family man?" still no response. "Father, you've got to give me something to work with here. I can't exactly read minds."

"That would be useful, wouldn't it? To read minds."

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly psychic-" Lassiter stopped mid frustrated rant to let the words sink in. "Psychic…" Lassiter repeated. He stared at the priest who just gave him _the_ look. "Is Spencer in danger?"

"I never said that." Lassiter took that as another confirmation.

"No, you didn't" Lassiter assured him. "Thank you, Father Westley. You've been a big help." the two shook hands and parted ways. Lassiter sat in his car, intending to turn the keys and drive home, but finding himself lost in thought instead.

Oh, how he wanted to yell at the priest. Scream, and fight and demand _more_ information. Father Westley most likely knew the who, what, when, where, why and how. But he wouldn't reveal anything. It annoyed the detective to no end. He had dealt with cases like this before and he knew the rules all too well. It was revealed in confession, nothing can be revealed. Lassiter couldn't even use the law to get the information he so desperately desired. No, no. it was all very top secret. Very sacred. Father Westley wouldn't reveal anything. In fact, it was a miracle he had given the detective _that_ much to work with. Most wouldn't say a thing. So for that, he was forever grateful.

But Lassiter couldn't help but feel that if anything bad happened to Spencer, it'd be Father Westley's fault.

* * *

April 14th, 2013, Henry Spencer's House

It had been several days since Lassiter had gotten the warning from the priest. He had told the chief immediately. Shawn was tracked down and forced to stay with his father, along with having two guards to keep him safe. Gus and Juliet would keep Shawn company as often as possible, but Shawn would rather they didn't. Not because he didn't care for his friends. No, no. he loved them and their company (on most occasions). Recently, though, all they ever focused on was his little episode that he dealt with every year. And there was no escape from these conversations any more.

There were many mixed feelings on the information that was given to them by Father Westley. On one hand, you had Juliet O'Hara and Burton Guster, who were ever so grateful. They understood how lucky they were that the priest had said anything at all. They knew that anything that was revealed in confession had to be kept a secret at all times. On several cases it annoyed Juliet, because she knew most times that if a priest would just be allowed to act as a witness, they could have so many criminals off the street. But, of course, they weren't allowed. No police could use any form of the law to get information from a priest. If it was told in confession, then it would remain a secret. Juliet and Gus were just grateful that Father Westley was brave enough to tell them their friend was in danger.

Meanwhile, Henry and Lassiter were annoyed to no end by the pure _lack _of information given. Henry could go on for hours, ranting about how certain laws just shouldn't exist. He could go on and on about how Father Westley should be allowed to tell the detectives immediately who wanted to hurt Shawn, why they wanted to hurt Shawn, how they would, when they would. Henry wanted to know exactly how to protect his son. But, his information was limited. All he could do was keep his son close and try to protect him from everything.

But this was Shawn they were talking about. It had taken them the longest time to even consider moving back in with his father. He simply didn't want to, no matter what people said. Gus had had a chat with Shawn, and only just managed to convince him to move in. Gus had to bring up how Father Westley had saved Shawn's life before, how Shawn accused him of murder and technically owed him. then, to bring it all in, Gus explained to Shawn that if Father Westley got caught revealing the little information he had already given up, he could be excommunicated (to which Shawn promptly replied "Gus don't make up words" and then Gus had to explain in simple terms, he'd be banished from the church). After hearing how much the priest had risked just to give that small warning, Shawn had to comply. He owed it to him.

So that brought them to the present day. Shawn was in his childhood room, lying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling. It was approaching the very early hours of the morning (3:12 to be exact) and everyone was asleep. Everyone except Shawn. His insomnia decided that this would be a good time to act up, so Shawn found himself awake for most of the night. Not feeling the will to lull himself to sleep, Shawn pulled off his covers and forced himself out of bed. He figured a glass of water or a warm cup of milk might help him sleep. And really, that was all he wanted. Some sleep.

Shawn stealthily walked down the stairs, desperate not to wake up his father or Gus (who had decided that every other day he should sleep on the couch, just to be safe). He looked out the window on the door to see McNab standing guard. Shawn felt guilty immediately that his friend was guarding him so late at night. He never asked anyone to do it, most of them volunteered. Deep down, Shawn was touched, but more than anything, he was guilty. He wanted to send them all home (even tried to once before, but they all insisted on staying to keep him safe). So with a sigh and a shake of his head, Shawn walked to the kitchen and started getting a cup of water.

That was when he heard the rather loud thump. Shawn quickly turned around, half expecting an axe wielding maniac to be standing behind him, watching his every move. Instead, he was greeted with darkness. Shawn was about to categorise the noise under 'paranoid delusions' when he took a look outside and noticed. McNab wasn't standing guard anymore. In fact… that looked like his unconscious body on the floor. At least, he seriously hoped he was just unconscious. he wouldn't be able to live with himself if it was anything more.

Worried for his friend and scared for his life, Shawn ran to the door. He was about to pull it open and check on his friend when he heard a tapping behind him. Something metallic was tapping the counter of his father's kitchen. Shawn swallowed nervously, forcing the lump in his throat to just die down for a bit. He quickly flipped the switch, making all the lights turn on. He then turned around to face his attacker.

As soon as he saw her, guilt overtook every training session he did, every emotion he ever felt and every rational thought he ever had.

There, in front of Shawn, was none other than Olivia Cesario. She was holding a knife with a very particular handle. It wasn't one that his father owned. She must have brought her own. How thoughtful.

* * *

**Epilogue, no epilogue? Which FanFic should I do next?**

**Please Review!**


	4. It Was an Accident

**Hello Lovelys! I'm really not updating this as often as I would have liked. And now it's May and I haven't finished. I have failed. **

**So there **_**will**_** be an epilogue. And so in that case, there are two chapters left after this one. Now I've got two suggestions for which FanFic to do next, and that will be posted in June or late May. Thanks lovelys, you can still review or PM me with requests. Just check profile. I'm a people pleaser. Your wish is my command.**

**Anyways, please review! Even though I'm not updating much and I always write an exceedingly long authors notes that probably everyone just skips over because they're boring, it would be awesome if you could review. They mean the world to me. Especially with exams coming up, they provide a good distraction. So please review!**

* * *

April 14th, 2013, Henry Spencer's House

Shawn stared at Olivia, speechless and in shock. He could recognize that face anywhere. Those eyes clearly belonged to the little nine year old he saw grieve for her sister. He was overcome with guilt and all he could do was stare at her.

Olivia Cesario stared at Shawn. She was still hanging on tightly to her knife. She could attack him, stab him and it'd all be done. It was clear Shawn wasn't going to make a run for it. He wasn't going to call out for help. he wasn't going to do anything. And there, in his eyes, Olivia could clearly see the guilt. She knew that she could kill him now and everything would be right again. But she couldn't. she wanted to make sure he knew why she was doing this.

"Spencer" Olivia said in a low voice. It was the only thing she was able to get out.

"Olivia…" Shawn replied in an equally low voice. He took a step towards her and she quickly thrust her arm forward, daring him to take another step forward. Shawn put his hands up in defence and surrender. He wouldn't do anything. "You don't want to do this" Shawn said.

"Shut up" Olivia said. "You don't know what I want."

"Viola wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you to be a killer." Olivia stared at Shawn in outrage before lunging at him. Shawn only barely jumped back, avoiding the attack.

"Don't you _dare_ say her name!"

"Okay, I won't. But you don't want to do this. You don't have to be a killer."

"A killer like you?" Shawn was speechless. "You deserve to die. You killed her. You killed my sister." Shawn opened his mouth to say something, but closed it immediately. He couldn't even bring himself to say anything. "And you can't even deny it. Because it's true. I remember the look on your face when she died. You were far too… traumatised for your story to have been true. And the next year, when you visited… you were far too guilty. And even all these years later, you're still so guilty. Why is that? If you had just come across her body and found her like that… why would you look so guilty?

"I remember the skid marks around her body. I remember the police had said something about it, but I just couldn't remember what. I snuck into the file room at the police station ages ago and I looked up my sister's file. They found skid marks leading to the car you were driving, meaning you tried to stop very suddenly. They ignored it. They figured there was no way the son of a cop would do this and lie about it. You got away with it. You got away with killing my sister. You got away with it simply because you were a cop's son. How is that fair?"

Shawn was still silent. Olivia stared at him with judging eyes, with accusing eyes… with _knowing_ eyes. It was driving him crazy. He didn't know what to say and he was worried for this day. He had been terrified of being confronted for such a long time.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she asked, slightly outraged. "My sister died. She was 15. She still had her whole life ahead of her, but you took that away from her. And you're _sorry_?" finally, tears started streaming down Olivia's face and Shawn could only look at her with guilt. "You killed her" Olivia said softly. Then, her head snapped up and she stared at Shawn with murderous eyes. Her grip on the knife tightened. "YOU KILLED HER!" she screamed and lunged forward at him.

Shawn jumped back, only to bump into the dining table. Two chairs fell over, making a huge crashing sound echo throughout the house. Olivia took another strike at Shawn, and he had no choice but to jump back again, trying hard to dodge her attacks. Instead, he stumbled over the fallen chair and found himself sprawled across the floor. Olivia towered over him and saw this as an opportunity to bring her knife crashing down at an alarming force. Shawn instinctively grabbed her wrist and tried to hold her back.

Shawn let out a panicked yelp as the knife was slowly but surely making its way closer and closer to his throat. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping and praying for some kind of miracle. He felt the cool tip of the knife start to press against his throat and instantly shied away from it. As far as Shawn was concerned, he was a goner. And he almost gave up hope.

Just as Shawn was feeling the first drop of blood start to trickle down his neck, the front door was busted down without warning.

"FREEZE SBPD!" Lassiter yelled as he walked through the doors, gun trained on Olivia. Juliet and several other officers followed. Henry had even come thumping down the stairs, his own gun in hand. Gus was right behind him, the phone used to call for backup still held tightly in his hand as if it were a lifeline.

This all would have been a very comforting sight to Shawn. And it was, for a while. Until he saw the look on Olivia's face. Until he saw the smile that was still fixed going from ear to ear. She had no intention of stopping simply because some cops pointed guns. In fact, Shawn even questioned whether or not she knew they were there.

"Olivia Cesario, put down your weapon!" Lassiter yelled.

Acting on impulse and worry, Gus charged towards them and tackled Olivia. She fell from her position and the knife went tumbling on to the floor, making an unnecessary amount of noise as it did. Henry quickly ran to his son, helping up and supporting him, making sure that he was alright. Gus quickly stood up to get away from Olivia, afraid she might try to attack him as well. And if it weren't for Lassiter and two other officers, she would have. They quickly held her back as she started to strike. She struggled against their grip while Lassiter pulled out his handcuffs.

"Olivia Cesario, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Shawn Spen-"

"You killed her!" Olivia screamed at Shawn. "You murderous coward! You killed her! You killed her! Rot in hell, Shawn Spencer! Rot in hell where you belong!"

"Take her away!" Lassiter yelled at the officers. "Read her her rights and get her out of here!"

"You killed her! She's dead because of you! You killed her! You murderer! YOU MURDERER!"

What surprised everyone the most wasn't the accusations or the small girl's impressive strength. No, no. what surprised everyone the most was Shawn's reaction. Not a single witty joke, not a single cry for help, and not once did he ever deny her claims. He let her scream, he let her shout, he let her attack him. and then… he said the four words no one would have expected from him.

"It was an accident" Shawn whispered. Lassiter, Juliet, Gus and Henry all turned towards the small voice. Shawn was staring wide eyed after Olivia.

"Shawn?" Henry asked, worriedly. Shawn quickly pushed Henry away and broke through the crowd that lead to Olivia. Everyone in the room ran after him, making sure he didn't do something stupid.

"It was an accident!" he yelled after her.

"Murderer!" Olivia yelled back as she was pushed into the car.

"It was an accident!" Shawn insisted. But finally, the car was out of sight and Shawn broke down. He started shamelessly crying and he let the guilt show and the remorse eat him alive. He turned around to see all his loved ones staring at him with wide eyes and mouths opened.

"It was an accident."

* * *

April 8th, 1994, Cliff Drive

Shawn was pissed. He was driving his father's car and he was pissed. He had gone to a party with a girl he might have actually liked more than a certain Abigail Lytar. And what happened? She ended up hooking up with another guy. Someone Shawn once considered to be his friend. Shawn quickly left, without saying anything to either of them. He had not a single drop of alcohol and was far to sober to be okay with any of it. So no. Shawn was not a very happy bunny.

He wished he could have Gus nearby to assure him everything would be fine. Actually, scratch that, he wished he had listened to Gus' warning about both the girl and his friend. Turned out Gus was the only one Shawn could trust. And where was he in this most important hour of need? Gus was at home studying for a Calculus test that Shawn should be studying for as well. Now he kind of wished he had taken Gus up on his offer. Shawn had no one to blame but himself.

As Shawn was driving, he noticed that up ahead the street lights were dimming. And to make matters worse, his father's old car was not in its best conditions. Even the headlights were simply awful. Shawn had tried to slow down, seeing how dangerous this situation was. He tried but… he couldn't help it if he was hyper observant. It was dark and he could hardly see at all, but in the distance he could see a light flickering. Constantly on, off, on, off, on, off… it was driving him insane! You'd think that on a road this narrow and this curvy they could invest in some properly working lights! Not ones that go out or ones that start flickering in the distance. How was anyone to be able to pay any attention to anything at all? Shawn could hardly see, and boy was he trying. But all he could see was darkness, flickering, on, off, dark, on, flicker, off, dark, flicker, on, flicker, off, dark, flicker, on, flicker, dark, on, flicker, off, dark, flicker, on, off, on, flicker, off, dark, on, flicker, flicker, flicker, GIRL!

Shawn slammed on his breaks, hoping and praying that for once things would go his way. They didn't. He heard the awful thud before he saw the body fly backwards and hit the ground. Shawn stared in shock and guilt for exactly one second before he jumped out of the truck. He stared at the lifeless body in front of him for a second longer before he ran over to the girl. He quickly checked for a pulse but couldn't find anything. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks at this point. Shawn stared at the body in front of him in pure shock. One second later, Shawn reached for a phone and dialled three numbers. He would have to tell them the truth. Surely they would understand. It was an accident.

Shawn listened intently on his phone, his eyes never leaving the young body in front of him. he couldn't believe it. He simply couldn't believe what he had just done. It was an accident.

'911, what's your emergency?'

"Ambulance! I need an ambulance!"


	5. To Breath Again

**Hello lovelys! If you saw my profile in the past… however long it's been since I updated and saw that I said I would update this on May 17****th****… sorry… clearly that didn't work out. But, only a day late. I was kind of celebrating end of exams…**

**Now, before you get excited thinking this is the end of the Authors Notes and for once I'm just going to shut up and let you get on with it, sorry. There's more at the end. Don't want spoilers.**

* * *

April 17th, 2013, Gus' Car

_It was an accident_.

Those horrible words were spinning around everyone's head for the past three days. They had never heard Shawn sound so depressed, so guilty, so defeated. It was terrible. At first, they thought '_Surely he's just blaming himself for something he had no control over'_. But that, unfortunately, was not the case.

Shawn explained to everyone exactly what happened to Viola Cesario. How he was the one who had actually hit her. To say they were shocked was a complete understatement. They refused to believe it at first. They thought '_Surely, he's just covering up for someone else's mistakes'._ But that, unfortunately, was not the case.

So, they all looked into the case and listened to Shawn's story over and over, to understand exactly what happened. Then, they came to a conclusion. It was just like Shawn had said over and over again.

It was an accident.

Accidents happen, everyone knew that. But, in this case, the accident came at the price of someone's life. The whole group wondered for a moment if Shawn would be put on trial, maybe even sent to jail for involuntary manslaughter. But, after spending hours and hours investigating a case that they weren't even sure was a case, they decided to drop it. For several reasons

For one thing, Shawn was sober when he was driving. There was the fact that Shawn was a minor when it happened. He was seventeen years old, so even if he did go on trial, the charge wouldn't be as harsh. That brought them to their second factor. It had happened nineteen years ago. If they did want to prosecute, they weren't even sure they would be allowed to. Then there was the fact that it was an honest accident and not even entirely Shawn's fault. That is not to say, of course, that it was Viola's fault. But there were several factors that made it difficult to avoid the situation. The streetlights weren't working, it had been raining for days before and it was a curvy road and the accident occurred after a bend in the road. Shawn had just happened to be behind the wheel of the car and Viola just happened to be crossing the road.

Then there was Shawn's actions after the accident. He called an ambulance, he stayed with Viola the whole time and he even tried everything in his power to keep her alive. He followed procedure. The only thing he failed to do was tell the truth about it being him. Then, there was also the fact that he hadn't been behind the wheel of a car since the accident. His license has been expired for fifteen years now. He had, in a way, served a sentence for his crime.

But, in the end, it wasn't even up to the Police Department whether or not to press charges. They had the facts, they had Shawn's statement, they had evidence and all the things essential for an investigation, and they could look into more than they already had. And they would, if Sebastian Cesario chooses to press charges.

Which is what lead Shawn here. He was in Gus' car, sitting nervously, more terrified of this one act than any other thing he had done in his life. Gus' car was parked out in front of the Cesario residence. Shawn had to be the one who told Sebastian. He had to be the one to explain to him how his daughter died. Then, Sebastian would decide whether or not to prosecute. Gus tried to give his friend a reassuring pat on the back, but Shawn didn't seem to take much notice to it.

"Any chance you want to do this for me?" Shawn asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Gus frowned at his friend. Shawn was hurting, had been hurting for almost twenty years. And Gus had done nothing about it. He knew nothing about it. And while he wanted to make anything and everything easier for his friend, especially after seeing him so guilty, he knew he couldn't do this. Shawn had to. Not just because he owed it to Sebastian, but also because he owed it to himself. Gus knew that keeping this secret had an effect on Shawn. As cliché as it may sound, Gus knew that Shawn needed to confess to it, actually admit it and take responsibility. That was the only way he would ever recover from this.

"Shawn…"

"Yeah, I know. " Shawn unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. He took two steps towards the house before turning back towards the car. Gus quickly locked all the doors and just pointed to the front door of the Cesario house. Shawn sighed in defeat and made his way towards the front door. The walk was only about twenty metres, but Shawn looked back a total of eleven times. Each time, he would look Gus right in the eye, and Gus would very quickly and very sternly point towards the front door.

So finally, Shawn reached the front door. His heart was racing and he could already feel the guilt start to overpower him. With a shaky hand, Shawn finally knocked on the door. He knocked two times before very quickly abandoning his plan and turning around, ready to sprint back to the car. Gus was shaking his head, already starting to roll down the windows just a crack to lecture Shawn. But, as it turned out, it was unneeded. The front door suddenly opened behind Shawn.

"Shawn Spencer?" Sebastian asked. Shawn froze and swore to himself before slowly, slowly turning around.

"_Hey_ Mr. Cesario!" Shawn said, a little too cheerfully. Sebastian gave him an odd look. And, to Shawn's complete horror, he saw that look quickly morph into guilt. Sebastian was feeling guilty about what Olivia had tried to do. Of course he heard about what she did. He didn't know why, but he knew it happened, and he had apologised many times over the phone on behalf of his daughter. And Shawn hated it. Because Shawn believed that Olivia was right.

"Shawn, why don't you come on inside-"

"Mr. Cesario-"

"I'd like to officially apologise for what Olivia did. It's so not like her. I don't know what came over her-"

"I need to tell you something-"

"Please come inside, I'll put on a pot of coffee. I owe you that much-"

"I don't think you'll want me inside, sir-"

"And please, call me Sebastian. We've had this conversation before-"

"It's about Viola" Shawn finally said. And finally, Sebastian was quiet. "And how she died…" It didn't seem like he was going to be interrupted again, so Shawn continued. "Do you know why Olivia tried to kill me?"

"I… can't say that I do" Sebastian answered. "It seemed so odd to me. Olivia would _never_ do anything like that…"

"Well, I assume she was never really able to get over her sister's death."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"…Mr. Cesario, Olivia tried to kill me because she believed I was responsible for the death of Viola. And she was right."

"Oh, Shawn… please don't listen to her. Don't you blame yourself. You did everything you could have done to help her, and I can never thank you enough for that. Not everyone would stay with her until the ambulance arrived, trying everything within their power to save her."

Shawn could feel tears threatening to fall. The guilt was too much to handle and now he was actually getting thanked. Shawn had never actually been thanked for trying to save Viola, and now that he was, he was overcome with grief and guilt and shame.

"Mr. Cesario, I wasn't entirely honest with you" Shawn finally said.

"What… are you…?"

"It wasn't a hit and run. I was driving the car that hit Viola. But please… believe me when I say that it was an accident" And now Shawn was rambling. "There is no better word to describe what happened. It was a pure and completely unfair accident. I could give excuses, but you don't want to hear them. But you deserved to know what happened to your daughter. And please, _please_, believe when I say I am _so_ sorry. I know I can never make up for what I did, but I'm so sorry. I don't think a single person one this planet could feel more sorry than I do about this. I wish I could do something, I wish I could bring her back or _any_thing, but…" and now, the tears that were held back for almost twenty years started to pour out. "I can't. It was my fault. And I am _so_ sorry."

Sebastian hadn't said a single word throughout all of this. Only near the end did the father start to silently cry. Shawn tried desperately to read him, but failed. He couldn't tell if Sebastian was pissed off, or depressed or vengeful. Shawn could only hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be absolutely hated by this man. Though, in all honesty, Shawn wouldn't blame him.

"I've already told the police. They've started an investigation and claimed it an honest accident, but, they couldn't really prosecute or further investigate. If someone were to press charges, then a full investigation would be organised. I fully understand if you want to prosecute and never see me again. I just thought you should hear it from me, and though I know it probably means nothing to you, I really wanted to tell you in person just how sorry I am."

Sebastian was silent and still for a while. The only thing he eventually did was wipe away the tears that threatened to fall again. Shawn almost wished that he would just start yelling or just call the cops or whatever else the man had in store for him. But instead, to Shawn's utter surprise, the man _smiled_. It wasn't a full out '_I'm so happy rainbows are coming out of my eyes'_ smile, but a reassuring smile that could make anybody's day.

"Oh, Shawn…" Sebastian said. "I had decided long ago that I would forgive whoever was driving that car. Knowing it was you… it makes it… easier."

"I… what?"

"I believe you. It was an accident. But you stayed with her, you still tried to save her, you didn't abandon her like I thought she was. You didn't leave her, you tried to help. And that's all I can really ask for. I appreciate that you told me the truth, but I won't be needing to press charges against you. I think you've punished yourself enough over the years."

"But… you're her _father_… I… I killed her…"

"And I forgive you. It's time you do the same." Shawn couldn't do anything but stare at the man in complete shock. He was forgiven. "Now, would you please come inside? I'll put on a pot of coffee and… we can talk."

"…okay…"

Sebastian smiled that reassuring smile again and gestured towards the house. Shawn started making his way towards the front door again and found that in all this craziness, Sebastian was actually comforting Shawn. He put his arm around the younger man and pat him reassuringly.

And for the first time since the accident, Shawn didn't feel completely guilty. He didn't feel ashamed with himself. He didn't feel like a murderer. He almost felt… good.

The weight of his long kept secret was finally lifted, and for the first time in so many years, Shawn could breathe again.

* * *

**Authors note continued:**

**So originally, I was going to end it here. But people wanted an epilogue. So I shall give you one which will be posted… Tuesday? I don't know. I'm not going to make promises, because I'm apparently bad at keeping them.**

**Basically, what I wanted to say that had to be put at the end was the inspiration behind this. Felt like something I should share.**

**Basically, I was watching a show (can't remember the name or what it was about (I'm useless)) but I remember one story about a little girl who was run over by a hit and run driver. A couple years later, they interviewed the parents and they said that they had found it in themselves to forgive the driver. They talked about how they didn't know who did it or why they didn't stop to help, but that they still forgave them… and I just couldn't help but think… how do you forgive someone for something like this? I mean, I'm someone who holds grudges for the smallest things, so this thought really affected me and got me thinking. And that's where this FanFic came from.**

**Sorry for late update, sorry for super long Authors Note. You probably don't care about all this, just thought I'd share where my inspiration came from.**

**Please review!**


	6. Epilogue

**Hello lovelys! I'm about a month late… sorry about that… but the point is I'm here now, right. Right? **

**Anyways, this is the end of the FanFic! Thanks for sticking around until the end and thanks for all the reviews! Love you guys! **

**Next FanFic (I am Yin (see profile for brief summary)) will be posted in August as I will be away for most of July.**

**Please review! I love all types of reviews, the good, the bad, the corrections! Please review! You know you want to.**

* * *

April 8th, 2014

Today marked the 20th anniversary of Viola Cesario's death.

Juliet O'Hara woke up early, even by her standards. But when she felt the spot on the bed next to her, she was devastated to find it empty. So Shawn had left early in the morning. Again. He did this every year, why did she expect any different? One thing was for sure, she was a hell of a lot more worried about Shawn than she ever was.

Before, she had absolutely no idea what was going. For a short, paranoid amount of time, Juliet was convinced Shawn was cheating on her. But those suspicions always disintegrated once he came back and would make everything seem like it was back to normal. When she found out what had actually happened, what Shawn was actually doing, she couldn't help but wish he _had_ been cheating on her. The thought of the normally happy and energetic psychic being reduced to guilt and hangovers made even the coldest of hearts sad.

Juliet knew that tomorrow, she would wake up to Shawn cooking breakfast downstairs. When she'd ask what happened, Shawn would just shrug, not bothering to come up with an excuse. Then Juliet would drop the subject. And Shawn would return to being happy.

* * *

Carlton Lassiter woke up at his usual time. He got breakfast, had a stare down with his wall of convicts, had coffee, a shower and soon enough he was ready for work. It wasn't until he was in his car, listening to the radio that he heard the date. As soon as he heard it, his thoughts automatically went to a certain annoying psychic. He knew that today Shawn would be wasting away at the pub, drinking away his guilt and sorrows. Lassiter knew the feeling all too well, so he made the decision to check up on him after work, maybe even give him a lift home.

Work wasn't as fun or interesting as it usually was for the grumpy detective. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed the psychic. Juliet wasn't much help either. She was gloomy all day. Sure, this one day a year used to be like heaven to the police department. Finally, one day a year where they could get all their work done without any distractions what so ever. But finally, they learned the cost of the productive day, and suddenly they didn't want it anymore. When the chief came out of her office and asked about Shawn, the two detectives exchanged a knowing glance before retreating back to their work. So the chief called both Shawn and Gus, neither one responded.

The end of the day came at last, and Lassiter was – for the first time – excited to leave work. He got into his car and drove directly to the pub. He walked in, expecting to find Shawn huddled up in a corner, clutching on to a bottle of whatever alcohol he could get. Instead, he found a vacant seat and a motorcycle free parking lot.

* * *

Gus woke up from his phone ringing and when he went to pick it up he saw that it was from the chief. Knowing she'd be asking about Shawn, about where he was and whether or not they could do a case, Gus let the phone ring. He knew what today meant for Shawn, and he wasn't going to let a case get in the way.

So Gus carried on with the rest of his day. He went to his more secure job, he got a pineapple smoothie, he looked over Psych bills and expenses, and soon it was time to go home. He had spent the whole day productively as he always did on April 8th. It was the one day a year he got anything done. He used to love this day, but ever since he found out exactly how badly Shawn was taking it, Gus didn't feel like celebrating anymore. He missed his best friend annoying him, he missed his cases, he missed getting smoothies with his friend, he missed it all.

Gus tried (without much hope) to call Shawn, but he wouldn't pick up. he figured he wouldn't. so when night came, Gus carried on with his routine. He ate his dinner, watched some TV, brushed his teeth and headed to bed. Midnight came, and Gus was still awake. He waited and waited for the call to come, for his assistance to be needed by a certain friend of his. He waited and waited. But the call never came. And so Gus fell asleep at 4 in the morning.

* * *

Shawn never actually fell asleep the night before. He had tossed and turned (and woken Juliet up several times in the process) but he could never actually fall asleep. Soon, it was 5 in the morning, so Shawn decided to get out of bed. He had a coffee and stared at the calendar in front of him. he knew very well what day it was. It had haunted his worst nightmares, it was the source of all his guilt, it had time and time again reduced Shawn to nothing. He knew the day very well. But he wasn't afraid of it anymore.

Just a year ago, Shawn had finally confessed everything. Ever since then, he didn't feel afraid anymore. His conscience had cleared. He had talked to Sebastian Cesario, who had expectantly forgiven him. And that was the real moment Shawn's life changed. He was forgiven.

Shawn walked out the front door, hopped in his bike and headed to the only place that made sense to him at the moment. At first, he was surprised when he wasn't greeted by the front doors of the pub. But then, he wandered in and found it perfect. He walked up the path and manoeuvred his way around until he finally made it to Viola Cesario's tombstone. He spent a full hour just standing in front of it, staring at it. After that, he fell onto his knees and cried. The guilt once again rose up to a level Shawn could never cope with. Instead of running to the pub like he usually did, he found comfort in simply breaking down.

"I'm sorry" Shawn choked out and he continued to cry. He didn't know how long he was sitting there, wallowing in his own guilt. Long enough that it was not unusual hours of the morning and the cemetery wasn't empty anymore. He got a few odd looks, but he didn't care.

"Morning, Shawn" a voice called out. Shawn looked up and quickly jumped to his feet.

"Mr. Cesario, hi. Morning. I-"

"Shawn, relax" Sebastian said with a smile on his face. "It's Sebastian, remember." He sat down in front of his daughter's grave, right next to where Shawn had been just a few seconds ago. Shawn slowly lowered himself back to his place. They both sat there quietly for a couple of minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts centred around Viola.

"Mr. Cesario, I'm sorry" Shawn said again.

"I know" Sebastian said. "And I've forgiven you already. Stop apologising." Shawn nodded slowly and returned to staring at the tombstone.

They sat in silence for just a moment longer.

"Thirty five" Sebastian said. "She would have been thirty five now. What did you do when you were thirty five?"

Shawn was silent for a while, over analysing the question. he didn't seem to be asking it in an accusing way. The father was honestly curious. Shawn felt forever in debt to this man. Anything he asked, Shawn would do. Answering a question like this was the least of his worries. So Shawn thought back two years before smiling.

"I went on a treasure hunt" Shawn said. "Where I thought I witnessed one of the coolest guys getting murdered. But… he wasn't and we managed to put the 'murderer' in jail. I got my appendix removed. I helped clear an innocent man's name. I solved a lot of cases. I solved a lot of murders. Including one that ended with my dad getting shot. I solved that case too."

"You're a good man, you know?" Shawn didn't respond. "I know _you_ don't think you are, but I'm sure many people will agree with me on this."

"But I-"

"Just think of all the lives you've saved, all the names you've cleared, and all the killers you've put behind bars. What you _did_ was an accident. But what you're _doing_ is nothing short of amazing. So stop apologising. You're already forgiven." Shawn nodded, still in silence.

"Thank you."

The two men spent another half hour sitting by Viola's grave. They didn't talk any more, they just sat there consumed by their thoughts. It wasn't until Shawn's stomach broke the silence that he realised he hadn't eaten anything in twelve hours. Sebastian chuckled, stood up and asked Shawn to join him at the coffee shop. While Shawn finished his coffee and pineapple chunks, he could help but realise it was 6PM and he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol.

At 7PM, the two men shook hands and said their goodbye's. Shawn returned home to his Juliet, still hungry and desperate for any food that his girlfriend might have prepared. He opened the door and walked in, for the first time very aware of just how sober he was. Juliet heard the door being opened and closed and rushed to the hall, hoping it was who she thought it was.

"Shawn" she called out, with a smile on her face.

"Hey, Jules."

"You're home early" she noted. Shawn just shrugged.

"…When did you expect me back?"

"Tomorrow" she admitted.

"Is it a problem that I'm back now?"

"No, no. Of course not. If you give me a couple minutes, I'm almost done making dinner."

"Sure. I'm starving."

Shawn walked in further and sat down at the couch. Juliet (who normally hated eating meals on the couch in front of the TV) brought both of their plates and put them on the coffee table in front of them. The news was on, but neither of them seemed to be paying attention. Shawn was busy thinking about the Cesario's while Juliet couldn't keep her eyes of her boyfriend, wondering and of course, worrying about him.

"So where were you today?" she asked at last. Shawn hesitated before answering with the honest truth.

"I spent the day with Viola and Sebastian."

"Oh" she was honestly surprised, and of course, grateful. Of all the places he could have been at, he was at the one place that would really help. "That's good."

"Yeah… it is good…"

And for the first time, Shawn believed it.

**The End**


End file.
